Huh
Yeah
Comin' back with that east coast flavor
1994
Yeah
Mista Busta, where you at?
Can't scrap a lick, hey yo, those rhymes is whack
You need to keep yo corny ass at makin' beef
You be soundin' like a kid from Sesame Street
Tryin' to dis D-O-G when that ain't right
Sickin' Snoopy on me when that ain't right
Gettin' funky on me when that ain't right
When I be givin' it to your girl every other night
I get down for my crown and I represent
Do whatever I gotta do just to pay the rent
And if it means dissin' you fool and yo crew fool
I'm comin' to your house with the Bronx Zoo
Rappers frontin' on the dog on the mic get stepped upon
And when you get crapped upon, you can stomp like a leprechaun
Straight up, word up for the real deal
Not Hollyfield but still
I might send in the dogs just like Mike Tyson
When I'm grabbin' the mic, everything is alright, yeah
And I just lay back in the flow
Rappers wanna step to me but they just don't know
That I'm the dog
It's the dog, baby, baby
The dog, baby, baby
The dog, baby, baby
Tim Dog!
Yeah!
Comin' back with that east coast flavor
Yeah!
Comin' back like that!
I'm sittin' in my crib watchin' MTV
When this skinny muthaphukka on the telly try to dis me baby
He try to flex on the D-O-G
But if I gave that punk binoculars, he still couldn't see me
So shake your bones and your rattle
And leave your toy 9 at home and bring your skills to the battle
Like Jeru, I'm gonna damage
Lookin' for success and your ass is a Burger King sandwich
It's a pity fake niggas gotta show off
I'll bust yo skinny ass with a sawed-off
Shotgun! Didn't even know that I got one
I'm aimin' at your brain, come in my House of Pain
Suckers try to flip, yo, I'm comin' quick
With some super, super bad Boogie Down Bronx shit
You rappers better run and hide
Tell yo ho Dr. Dre I got somethin' to ride [let me ride]
On my D-I-, see ya?
Told you you would D-I-E if you ever step to the D-O-G
Punk, you besta know the game
My nutsack is bigger, so what's my name?
It's the dog, baby, baby
The dog, baby, baby
The dog, baby, baby
Tim Dog!
I came in the door, I said it before
I never dissed that punk Dr. Dre no more
But he's bitin' me, fightin' me, invitin' me to rhyme
I can't hold it back, I'm gonna go for mine
The original hardcore lyric ballbreaker
When it comes to whack MCs, no, I'm not a funk faker
I just smash, crash on that ass, and put that ass in the trash
Like it's nothin' you learned in class
I'm a real MC and I'm on my own
And if nobody got my back, I can hold my own
If I die, I die, if I live, I live
But if hip-hop survive, I got somethin' I can give
I don't care if you don't think I can win word
And I don't care if you don't wanna be my friend word
And if the Pound get mad and they wanna step in
Come on and step right in, step right in to the
It's the dog, baby, baby
The dog, baby, baby
The dog, baby, baby
Tim Dog!
